


Too Damn Proud

by the-canary (siruru)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Awkward Crush, Dancing Lessons, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Feelings Realization, Mutual Pining, Reader-Insert, Secret Crush, Slow Dancing, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-05 06:47:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15164963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siruru/pseuds/the-canary
Summary: The man was born with two left feet, but damn could he steal a heart.





	1. birthday gifts.

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @whiskeybucky‘s writing challenge. this is my attempt at a mini-series, we’ll see how it goes since i always end up adding things. taking some inspiration from too proud by utada. also, happy birthday, steve rogers! 
> 
> Prompt: “Is now a good time to confess my love or should I come back in a week?”
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated.

“Hey, do you still do those gift cards?” 

It’s the oddest question that’s come out of Sam’s mouth since last week (though never beating “what is the perfect Dorito ratio?” that he asked once with more than 36 hours without sleep back in his military days) that he asks you on a Sunday afternoon, because you know that he knows that you still do. You have been doing them since you open your dance studio in Queens a couple of years back. Some people were more awkward or just a bit more self-conscious about learning something new in front of a group of people and you tried to compensate for that, and even if it was a little pricier people still seem to buy them for themselves or loved ones. 

_ Who the hell was this for? _ Certainly not himself, Sam could dance with the best of them.    

“Yeah, why?” you asks cautiously before taking a sip of your beer, as the TV is forgotten in the background. 

Sam Wilson had been one of your closest friends since college and that disastrous Argentine folklorico class, that the two of somehow managed to pass. You had been with  him when he chose to go into the military, when he lost his wingman Riley, to when he decided to get back to school for his engineering degree, and even more recently when he finally to ask his girlfriend the big question. He was smooth, but even you caught him in a lie every once and awhile.

“Just thinking about a man with two left feet,” he states mysteriously before giving you that smile that tells you that’s all he is going to share as he goes back to watching the game. You let out a little huff, knowing that you are going to totally charge him extra for any classes he might consider buying.

* * *

 

Steve Rogers smiles at the group of friends gathered to celebrate his birthday, as the fireworks begin to go off more and more around Tony’s Buffalo home, where he had taken everyone to celebrate Steve’s and America’s birthday. _ 34 years _ , and Steve knew that was something to be proud of. He had survived his sick childhood, fending for himself until he turned 18, joining the Army and his tours of duty -- and all on his own, for the most part, Bucky would remind him who was there the entire time. However, for all that Steve always felt a lot of things were missing from his life, that he had exchanged something internal for the struggle to live another day. Or maybe he was just having another “mini life crisis”, as Sam had told him the other day.

“Still overthink’, huh?” a familiar voice asks, as blue eyes turn to see the figure of his other best friend and coworker, Sam with Natasha not that far away from him. Steve smiles, but Sam know it’s a little more hollow than usual.

“‘aybe,” is all Steve says, as Sam shakes his head. However, instead of saying anything, he pulls out an envelope from his back pocket. Steve raises an eyebrow before taking it.     

“I remember you talking about taking up dancing the other day,” Sam explains, as Steve opens the piece of paper and seeing  _ free course  _ printed in the front with an address to a studio in Queens. Steve is shocked but still apprehensive, “Sam, you didn’t have too.”  __

“Don’t even mention. My friend runs the studio,” Sam smiles, though he can already tell that the blond isn’t exactly for the idea either. Steve like to wish for a lot of things, but at times just decides to bottle it all up instead of taking action -- at times, very different from his initial personality, “Just think about it. No biggie if you don’t go.”

Blue eyes clash with brown ones, as Sam smiles smugly with Natasha groaning in the background. Everyone in the office knew that Steve hardly backed out of a challenge, something leftover from his younger days. Sam had just challenged into giving these classes a try and it was only a matter of time. A waiting game, and Sam had the patience of a fucking saint. 

“I’ll think about it, but thanks.”

“Anything for you, pal.”  

* * *

 

One week. _Two weeks._ **Three weeks.**

It takes Steve Rogers three weeks to stop berating himself and take a chance in calling the number placed neatly on the bottom of the gift card. He paces back and forth in his kitchen, planning to hang up after five rings, the person on the other line answers after only two.

“Dancing All Night Studio, how may I help you?” a feminine voice answers, as Steve groans internally. Sam had never told him the instructor was a woman, though he sort of should have guessed it. He lets out a deep sigh. 

“Yeah, I have some free dance lessons,” Steve explains, as the voice gives out a hum in confirmation. 

“When would you like to start then?” 

“This week, if possible.” 

Oh, if only the two of you knew what you were in for, but looking back on it -- Sam probably knew from the beginning. 


	2. the lessons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sorry in advance if anybody gets Quinceañera flashbacks towards the end of this chapter because that was pretty much me towards the end.

Mondays and Thursdays from 6 to 7pm with at least 24 hrs advance notice before rescheduling, is  what Steve agrees with the dance instructor over the phone. 

He doesn’t tell Sam, but Bucky had overheard the ending of the phone call and as his shift ends and Bucky’s begins, the older man can’t help but smirk.

“Good luck, Stevie,” the dark-haired man grins probably remembering his own times trying to teach the blond how to dance and silently praying for his new teacher, while patting Steve on the back as he heads to Queens with a nervous excitement running through his veins. It takes him a good 30 minutes to find the street where the studio is located, on top of a warehouse with some swing music playing loudly from one of the windows.

“Here it goes, Rogers,” Steve breathes, taking two steps at time. By the time he is at the front door, welcome by a sign and a dark-haired woman, the music has stopped though there is still an abundance of laughter and talking. He takes a deep breathe before stepping forward to the tight-lipped woman. 

“H-Hi,” he manages to stutter out as dark eyes flicker with amusement for a moment,”Steve Rogers, coming in for dance lessons.”

“Your first session, I’m guessing?” she asks before introducing herself as Maria, the receptionist and everything else of Dancing All Night Studio. 

“That obvious, huh?” Steve lets out a nervous laugh.

“Yes, but you came to the right place,” Maria nods, as some young girls come out from the hallways. Some wave goodbye to Maria, others are sending curious gazes towards Steve. However, before any of them can ask him anything, his name is being called by a woman wearing a black form fitting top, leggings, and a brightly colored sash tied around her hips with her hair pulled back. You smile before asking.

“Steve Rogers, I presume,” you ask as he nods. You motion for him to follow you down the hall after telling Maria she can start locking up, “I hope you brought more comfortable clothes to dance in.”

“Sweats, sneakers, and an old tee. Just as you asked,” Steve motions to the small duffle bag he is carrying and you smile, still completely professional. You stop and motion to a room.

“You can get dressed here,” you point before motioning to the room at the end of the hallway, “I will be waiting there for us to start. Please don’t take long, if not you hiding in the locker room will count as your first class.” 

“Have people really done that?” he questions, but you shake your head as a grin breaks out of your professional facade that stops him for a moment. 

“Not yet, but I’ve heard stories from Sam,” you explain, as Steve groans before entering the room though all he can hear is your sudden laughter through the paper thin walls.

* * *

 

6:10 is when you finally start with Steve standing in front of you in comfortable clothing though with an uneasy look on his face. The room is filled with with the dim light of the sun since the summer allows for it a bit longer than usual. The mirror wall to your front and the red brick interior to your back. Your hands on your hips, as you can’t for the life of you help but feel excited about teaching the urban legend that is Steve Rogers due to his inability to dance, according to Sam. Though the teacher side of you tries to be kind, non-judgemental, and patience. 

“So, first thing first,” your voice has Steve’s head popping to his left to look at you, waiting, “Why do you want to dance?”

“W-What?” Steve responds. He had been waiting for you to just start telling him how to move, like Bucky had back in high school, not questioning his motives. It caught him off-guard, but it was refreshing in a sense. It wasn’t like you were digging into his innermost thoughts, which always worried him when meeting new people.

“Why dancing?” you repeat again, taking him out of his inner monologue. Blue eyes look towards the mirror in front of him, for a moment staring at a skinny 5’4 kid who could barely be out in this sort of weather without getting some sort of heatstroke. Steve Rogers was lucky to be alive, to have made it this far and maybe this was the first step in enjoying it --survival-- in a different way. 

“Never coulda before,” Steve remarks, looking straight at you, “Wanted to try now. Maybe, even dance with a pretty gal.”

“Well, I’ll promise you’ll get to do all that and more!” you exclaim, clapping your hands together as an old  [ Elvis Presley song  ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PpsUOOfb-vE) begins to echo in the room. Steve looks at you in confusion since you two had talked about learning older dances -- swing, the waltz, and such-- before anything else.

“I wanna see how flexible you are first,” you laugh at the horror that slowly disappears on his face as it turns into understanding, “The King’s music is the best to show off those muscles!”    

You move your arms to and for before thrusting your hips forward. You wait for Steve to follow your motions for the rest of the song. One song turns into  [ another  ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-eHJ12Vhpyc) as you move around Steve with a huge grin on your face, shaking your hips and twisting around every so often, though your eyes never leave his body as you try to get a sense of how he works -- it was part of your individualized dance curriculum. On the other hand, Steve is a stiff as a board while simply moving back and forth or shuffling his feet. It wasn't until  [ a song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LZmUfUBqE-s) from a familiar  [ Elvis movie ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Girls!_Girls!_Girls!) starts up that he begins to loosen up -- you are quick to take note of it too.

By the end of the session, you are sweating bullets as you hand Steve a cold water bottle, as he just seems to be breathing heavily. You shake your head and let yourself fall gracelessly on a chair nearby.

“So, what do ya think?” you ask, as he gulps the water done in one go and you try not look at his Adam’s apple. He sighs and looks down with a slight smile.

“I think I can do this,” you know he is trying to psych himself up, because nobody is really up for dancing unless they are born for it or have a very extroverted personality -- the one which you have the former of.

“Good, then I’ll see you next Monday,” you smile, as you throw a small towel at him before he bids your goodnight with a sweet and polite smile. There’s a brief fluttering in your stomach and you push it back, fully knowing that this isn’t the time for that.

* * *

 

The next two sessions go back to your usual structure of explaining what dance you are going to be teaching and doing the steps, as the couple watches on, except since Steve is just one person. This has you with your hand cusped with his and the other on his shoulder. You had stopped  [ the song again ](http://a-fire-burns.tumblr.com/post/68424136523/chayanne-tiempo-de-vals) because he had stepped on your toe  _ again _ , but he was making progress. 

“I’m sorry. I’ve just had something on my mind,” he tells you, as you turn to look at him with a frown. You motion him to sit down, knowing from experience that you weren’t going to get anywhere if his mind was occupied. 

“Well, what’s on your mind?” you ask, as he finally sits down, “A pretty gal?”

“Yeah,” he breathes out like some lovestruck teen, which causes you to quirked an eyebrow “Sharon, and I was thinking about asking her out dancing, but…”

“But?” you echo back his worried sentiments.

“Nat told me she’s really into salsa music,” Steve explains as he scratches the back of his next,”And I’m more--”

“Old fashioned,” you finished, as he gives you a smile in gratitude for finishing his sentence, before you continue, “So, what’s the problem? We could just finish the waltz and change some of the dances we had planned. No big deal.”

  
“Really?”

“ _ Really really _ . You learn how to dance, ask her out, and Steve Rogers gets the gal in the end,” you shrug, unsure of why you feel a hollow ache in your chest for a brief moment, “Maybe, I’ll even choreograph the wedding.” 

“Thank you so much,” he grins as you nod, brushing past the stickiness that comes with unknown emotions and getting that stupid, wonderful man to dance without stepping on your goddamn toes.   


	3. the pushback.

Three weeks. Three weeks in and everyone can tell that Steve Rogers isn’t the same man that he used to be, at least in the smaller details. Though still stubborn and a bit reckless, he always seems to have time to take a short break or take a breathe to calm down and see the situation from another perspective. He tries to smile and not be so serious all the time. He tries going back into his older hobbies of drawing and museum going when he has the time. It’s not a complete change, but the weariness of all those long and fought years seems to be easing into something else, though it is still a long process.  At 34, Steve Rogers seems to have found something. 

“Where are ya going?” Sam asks with a knowing smile. It’s Thursday, but more than an hour before Steve has to meet up with a certain dance instructor.   

“Just gonna talk to Sharon before I head out,” Steve says with a shrug before leaving the station, as Sam lets out an annoyed groan. His fiancee walks up to him, shaking her head at his attitude. 

“You should know by know, he’s kinda blind to those things,” Natasha says, as she places a hand on Sam’s shoulder. Both had known Steve long enough to know that he often confused what love was, as his current infatuation with Sharon could be seen as a textbook case of denial, maybe a mini life crisis in the making -- as Natasha had suggested due to her psychology degree.

“I know, but it just makes me wanna--” Sam lets out an annoyed sigh, remembering a certain someone that was denying any feelings she might be currently having as well, “--knock their heads together.”

“Don’t worry,” Natasha’s smile had a dangerous tilt that Sam knew meant she was up to no-good, “Leave that part to me.”

“And that’s why I love you,” Sam couldn’t help but laugh out before kissing her on the cheek.

* * *

 

It hadn’t been your idea to have Steve come in half an hour early on Thursday, he had just asked what time your classes ended and it just sort of nosedived from there. Over the past 3 weeks of classes, you had learned a lot about Steve Rogers -- about his sickness, his time in the Army, and his likes plus dislikes -- in between all the laughing and dancing that took place. You knew you shouldn’t be feeling anything for a man that had their heart set on someone else, but damn every time he laughed or gave you that titled smile -- you swore that your heart stopped, and it wasn’t getting any easier. 

For example, now as a  [ certain song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ye7tqxl5Y4) blasted through the speakers and Steve was trying his hardest to get the spinning move done right. He couldn’t catch the timing of your spinning return to him, which lead to you not having a solid stop -- you had almost fallen because of that. 

“Ok, we need to stop,” you state, clapping your hands in order for the music to go off, “What are you thinking about now, Steve Rogers?” 

“Just,” he pauses for a moment, before putting his hands on that thin waistline that you envied, “There is  an outing with all of the station’s workers, and I was was wondering if I should ask Sharon to dance.”

“Why wouldn’t you?” you ask with blue eyes look straight into your own, and then you immediately get it, “Ohhhh...stage fright, I understand.” 

“Really?” he asks honestly not believing you because in the past 3 weeks he had seeing you dancing on your own without a care in the world, laughing and talking with strangers that were interested in the dance studio, and even talking to patrons of the market downstairs. You’re laughing at his question right now, and Steve can’t help but smile a bit more at the sight of you like that.

“I was a very shy child growing up,” you explain as blue eyes soften at your reminiscing, “But, being shy doesn’t get your auditions or space in the world of dance. So, I had to toughen up a bit, needed a bit of help along the way though.”

“Would you go with me?” Steve asks softly and you almost don’t hear, but you do and it breaks your heart just a little at a man (you’re in denial of falling for) trying so hard at something new to him, especially when he trying to catch the eye of a certain gal -- it’s like those damn movies you love so much.

“Let me know and I’ll try to be there,” you give him a small, hollow smile but he doesn’t seem to notice as he takes a swing of his water bottle. 

“Okay,” you nod, going back to the reality of things, “Let’s take it from the top, and try not crashing into the wall this time, Mr. Rogers.”

* * *

 

It seems that Natasha and Steve have the same idea in mind, as the redhead tells you that she wants you to hangout with her and Sam’s coworkers for an outing at the local bar the went to every so often. It seemed that everyone was interested in meeting the “mysterious dance teacher” teaching their Captain how to dance. She arrives a few hours ahead of time and raids your closet for something suitable to wear.

“Wear this,” she says pulling out a silver flowy tank top followed by a black jacket and jeans, “and these. I am guessing no heels since you might be dancing with a certain someone.” 

“You might be right, but with  _ someone else, _ **_”_ ** you frown as she grins. It sends a chill down your spine because you would rather deal with stoic Natasha that the scheming version of her. 

“What the hell are you and Sam planning?” you can’t help but ask, only for her to let out a dry laugh.

“That’s for us to know and you to find out,” is all she says before pushing you into the bathroom, saying that you still need your hair and makeup done.

* * *

 

Everyone welcomes you kindly, though there is some teasing here and there about Steve’s predicament, but it was all in good jest. There had been questions and jokes thrown earlier in the night, but you answered them to the best of your professional abilities without throwing Steve under the bus, though there was laughter at his habit of crashing sometimes. For such a agile man, he couldn’t coordinate his movements very well sometimes. Eventually everything dies down and some people go their separate ways and so, here you are watching Steve and a blonde --possibly Sharon-- make small talk as you hang out with everyone else. After meeting her --kind and professional-- you couldn’t fault Steve for falling for her, they made a good looking All-American couple.     

“Probably still thinks he’s 5’4,” Bucky says, as you laugh after going through your most recent dancing disaster. You and the brunette had been trading “Steve stories” throughout the night, though he didn’t know about it, and thus somehow you had ended up with the charming Bucky Barnes all alone at the front of the bar, as the couples dance or the singles guys of the station were simple playing darts in the corner. 

From afar, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Steve taking Sharon onto the dance floor after what seemed like forever, as more fast paced music begins to play. You took another sip of your drink, as Bucky spoke up. 

“If you’re such a wonderful dancer, how come you haven’t gone up all night?” he asks, as you give him a shrug.

“Maybe, I just haven’t found the right partner for tonight,” you explain, as a devilish crooked grin appears on his face.  

“And if I asked you?” 

“I would say: _ Show me your moves, Mr. Barnes, _ ” you grin, the alcohol probably making you a bit more courageous than usual. He grins before grabbing your hand and bringing you to the center of the dance floor. His hands are placed on your hips, as you throw your arms around his neck. 

“You’re gonna regret this,” you wink at him, but all he does is laughs as the beat picks up once again. You don’t know how long you spend dancing with Bucky Barnes, but it does turn the depressing evening into something completely different. You spin and laugh, even going into a semi-impromptu  [ shake off  ](http://the-canary.tumblr.com/post/176205824326) of  [ _ Grease Lightning _ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wK63eUyk-iM) _ ,  _ which has you ballin’ over in laughter at Bucky’s antics.

“Hey Steve,” Sam comes up to the silent, brooding man that hasn’t taken his eyes off the dance floor in quite some time, “I thought you were dancing with Sharon.”

“She got tried,” Steve murmurs, as he watches Bucky spin you around by holding your waist. Your laughter not going above the sound of the song currently playing, but it’s the only thing echoing in his head at the moment. 

“You know, they make a cute couple,” Sam mentions with a smile hidden behind his beer mug. 

“...I guess,” is all Steve manages to say, completely unaware of the fact that he had crumpled up his empty beer can at the thought of you and Bucky together.  


	4. isle of denial.

“You know, I heard Steve asked Sharon out on a date?” Sam brings in smoothly, as the two of you watch Manchester City against Liverpool. 

You weren’t sure where the tradition began, but Sam had a tendency to watch football games when he was stressed about something, namely school and now Natasha. It had seemed that he had become a fan of one of them, though you didn’t know which one as he tended to yell at both teams. You were a fan since joining him, though you were never going to tell him of which team -- that would just escalate things. And like whenever he is trying to godge you, you just take a sip of your beer and hum out a tone of acknowledgement.     

“You gonna keep denying, sweets,” brown eyes turn to look at you, “I saw you look at him with those doe eyes before dancing with Bucky.” 

“Pleading the 5th,” is all you say, as he groans in frustration, “Especially, if he has a girlfriend now.” 

“What about Bucky then?” he asks in desperation, as you give him a tight smile. You knew that Sam just wanted you to be happy with someone like he was with Natasha, but after failed dates and relationships for your age, you were happy with the friendships and successful business you had worked on.

“Little Nancy Barnes is starting her ballet classes this fall,” you smile, thinking about your lunch date with Bucky and his sister, Rebecca, a few days back asking about what classes you had for elementary school children since his niece was going through an  _ Angelina Ballerina _ phase. 

“So no date?” he questions, still despairing but with a glimmer in his eyes that almost makes you laugh. Sam only thought of the best for you, and that’s why you loved him so dearly as one of your longest and closest friends. 

“No, I’m sorry,” you laugh, as he shakes his head before going back to the game at hand, only getting up to yell at the missed goal. However, a little black spider was already working her magic elsewhere.

* * *

 

“So, how was your date? With the dance instructor, right?” Natasha grins at Bucky who simply shakes his head. He knew the redhead well enough, even when on a date with her once, to know when she was up to no good. However, Bucky was also aware of his best friend being close enough to listen and he knew the punk to well not to notice the way he was looking her a couple of days ago. 

Steve Rogers was smitten all right, and not by Sharon Carter. 

“Just lunch, no biggie,” Bucky shrugs like it’s nothing while double checking his medical equipment, “She was really pretty, wearing a summer dress and all.”

Bucky can only shake his head at the sound of crashing in the small changing room not far away from them. Natasha’s grins turns wicked, as she asks one question -- going in for the kill.

“Are you gonna see her again?” green eyes are sparkling, as Bucky grins. 

“How knows? We’ll see where it goes,” he answers vaguely.

Cursing can be heard in the back now, as both friends share a laugh at the expense of their Captain and while they will pay for their actions ten-fold during drills. Both Bucky and Natasha decide it’s worth when  they see Steve lost in thought for the next couple of days.

* * *

 

Steve Rogers has a lot to think about in between his last two weeks of dance classes. He thought about the small changes he had from carrying a sketchbook where he went now to taking time to listen more closely to a song that played and he didn’t know. He went to the Guggenheim, but he found it wasn’t enough and slowly he put one and two together, as he observed the couples and children together on a lazy Saturday afternoon. 

So, he gathered all his imaginary courage and asked Sharon on a date, but he soon comes to realize that it was a mistake. As much as a wonderful gal as she was, she was extremely professional and her tight-lipped smile didn’t set his heart fluttering like it should’ve, like it had done so earlier. After the failed date, thinking in the middle of the night, his mind wandered to a certain dance instructor -- how she smiled and laughed, how her soothing and witty comments always eased his frustration during their time together.

_ “Okay, Mr. Rogers, no fumbling this time.”  _

_ “Oh well, that why quite the growth spurt, huh?”  _

_ “And when is there gonna be a Mrs. Rogers?”  _

Steve Rogers had finally stopped fighting his heart, but what was he supposed to do when she was already taken by his best friend. Thus, Steve does one of the things he has always been good that, he pushes his emotions down, though that is easier said than done.

* * *

 

On the final week of those dance sessions, Steve can’t handle it -- he can’t bare the thought of looking at her smiling and laughing while thinking that his best friend might be a reason for it. Yeah, he loved Bucky like a brother, but the way he had seen her laugh back in the bar was something he had never seen before, something he was sure he could never achieve, especially not now. He had been such a fool and now he was paying the price for it, so he had ran for just bit of reprieve and to lengthen just for a short while the way you were in his life -- that cute dance instructor, instead of Bucky’s possible new girlfriend. 

So, he cancelled Monday’s class, but it was useless. 

As it got closer to his time to leave, he kept staring at the clock. His hands wriggled in annoyance and anxiety, unsure of what he was going to do once his shift ended. Steve knew what he usually did --go home, shower, nap-- but after going to the same place for such a long time, Steve wasn’t sure what to do. He was a creature of habit after all. 

“Hey, aren’t you gonna head to class?” Bucky questions, coming out of the changing room, wearing a black jacket, white v-neck and dark jeans -- his usual dating outfit.

“Nah, not today,” Steve shakes his head, blue meeting blue, as he questions, “Where are you heading?”

“A date...with my neighbor,” Bucky says shyly, which catches Steve off guard. He had never in all his life seen Bucky being sheepish about a date before, clearly Steve would have to ask him about it later , but for now there was something more important thumping in his head. 

“What about--” Steve is ready to get up and ask about her, but Bucky stops him beforehand -- clearly not wanting to get into any trouble before his big date.

“I never went on a date with her,” Bucky confesses, as Steve lets out a relieved sigh, “Simply an info session with Becca and Nance, but Stevie…”

“What?” 

“If you’re head over heels about this gal like I think ya are,” Bucky sighs out, like he knows from experience, “Don’t waste anymore time.” 

Bucky says those magic words, the ones that Steve had always told himself as a younger man and he’s off, taking his bag and running towards the exit as his best friend chuckles before getting ready for his own big night.

* * *

 

He is twenty minutes earlier than his usual start and he knows that you won’t give him a lesson after he had cancelled, you were strict about that sort of thing. Steve can tell that when Maria gives him a frown as he enters, but he stops her scolding by simply stating that he wants to see one of your other classes as its happening. She raises on single eyebrow at him before telling him to follow her. 

Down the opposite side of the hall, a completely different type of music is playing and that’s when Maria stops, only motioning him to walk towards the door. Steve does so, as she leaves shaking her head, and he is floored by the sight. You stretching with a group of young, possibly older elementary aged girls, giggling as class comes to an end.  

“Eyes up,” you clap together with the young girls, as they follow suit, “Stay sharp.”  

Some of the girls get up and look at Steve leaning on the doorway, but you are too busy talking to some of the other girls surrounding you, asking questions as you give them pointers mixed with praises here and there. You laugh with them for a moment, as Steve can hear parents calling for their children down the hallway and that’s when you turn up to look at him with the girls. 

“Who’s that, miss?” one of the girls behind you asks. 

“Is that your boyfriend?” another one pipes in and Steve couldn’t help but wish that were true. Instead, you reprimand them lightly and push them past the blond and running into the hallway. You turn to look at him and frown.

“I hope you’re not here for a lesson,” you cross your hands over your chest and even if you’re scolding him, Steve loves that look burning in your eyes, “You cancelled, ‘member?” 

“I know,” he states bashfully while rubbing the back of his neck, “But, I was hoping to ask ya for something else.” 

“What?” you question, but if he heard closely enough Steve could hear the little uptick in your voice full of excitement and suspense. 

“If I could take you out to dinner.”


	5. a fighting chance.

“ _ NO _ !  **_What do you mean you said no_ ** ?” is all Sam can say, as you tell him what happened since the last time you had seen him and since Steve’s dance classes had ended, though it wasn’t without its awkwardness after you had turned him down for dinner. Sam’s face, full of disbelief and worry, only made your heart sink at remembering Steve’s face when you rejected his invitation. 

“I blanked out, I couldn’t believe he was asking me out, Sam!” you exclaim, as Sam just keep shaking his head, though you can already tell that he was thinking up another game plan. The man was sneaky that way, “I just stopped and said:  _ Sorry, I don’t date students. _ ” 

“He only had 3 more classes,” Sam answers back, only to have you run a hand through your hair in frustration.

“You know exactly what I mean,” you say in a voice softer and more weary than before, as brown eyes soften at your hidden meaning, of what you were truly afraid of if you had taken Steve Rogers’ offer -- that he would change his mind just as quickly as he had done with Sharon. 

“I know, sweets. I don’t think that’s the case here,” he says like a parent calming down their child, as he rubs your back for a moment, “I’m gonna fix this, fairy godmother style. Just trust me, okay?”

“Sam,  _ really _ ?” you ask in disbelief.

“Hush, Cinderelly and let me work my magic,” he gives you that grin that makes you think that everything is going to be okay, and you can’t help but believe him. However, you can’t help but keep laughing as he gets to up to go to the kitchen and starts murmuring to himself. 

“Have to do everything myself,” he shakes his head, though there is smile on his face,“Why do you even do try, Samuel?” 

Sam Wilson knows why he goes the extra mile for his friends’ happiness, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. 

* * *

 

It takes a couple of beers but eventually Sam gets the whole from Steve the next day: how you guys started your classes but changed it because he wanted to impress Sharon, how he laughed and genuinely enjoyed his time with you, how he got jealous over Bucky, and how he came to realize who had actually stolen his heart. However, when he tried to ask you out, you fall out rejected him and he didn’t try again during the last two classes -- he let his chance slip away and Sam could only groan.

“She heard ya talkin about Sharon like she was the moon and the stars,” Sam explains like a love guru with Steve’s complete focus on him, “Of course, she would be weary of your sudden change of heart, Romeo.”

“ _ Then, what can I do? _ ” Steve asks in frustration and hurt over the rejection. He knew now that what he felt for you, wasn’t the same as Sharon. He didn’t think about his coworker like he did about you -- thinking about all the places he could take you, how you would feel completely in his arms, how maybe having a family might be like, “This isn’t like Sharon, Sam.  _ I really do like her _ . I keep thinking about her all the  **damn** time.” 

“Ahh, we’re going to pull out the big guns, Steve,” Sam nods, as Steve just gives him an indercoulous look, though what can he say against the person that knows you so much better than him.  

“Those are?” Steve asks, not entirely sure what Sam is getting him into, but if it gives him a fighting chance to win over your heart, he’s willing to do it.

“Maroon 5.”

* * *

 

It’s another two weeks and Steve’s former spot is quickly filled in by a lovely elderly couple that wanted to learn the dances that were going to be part of their grandson’s wedding in a couple of months. Carson and Molly took a shine to you quickly through bringing you snacks and greeting you like they would any other family member. You tried your hardest to work around Molly’s arthritis and her husband’s limited mobility, as you watch them take a small break. Carson smiles at something his wife says, as they held hands, and for a brief moment you wonder if you were ever going to have something like that -- be happy with someone that loves you, and who you love back-- that’s when there’s a knock on the doorframe.    
  


“ **Is now a good time to confess my love or should I come back in a week?** ” Steve asks, leaning on the doorframe in a blue jacket, white shirt, and jeans with his arms crossed over his chest, a slight hint of hesitation in his voice. 

The elderly couple looks at the two of you, a very confused you and a hopeful Steve, and they couldn’t help but laugh to themselves. You look at them in a panic, as Steve drops his hands in defeat suddenly losing all that courage he had gathered on the way over here. Carson shakes his head, as Molly keeps laughing.

“I think you have more pressing matter, dear,” Carson declares with a smile, like he can’t wait to ask and prode you like a curious grandfather, but that is for another time, “Settle your romantic affairs and we’ll see you next week.”

“Ummm...thank you,” you question, not completely sure of what just happened as Molly walks over to Steve and pats his shoulder. Carson simply gives him a wink.   

“Good luck, sweetie.” 

“Thank you, ma’am.” 

“Steve, what are you doing here?” you question. 

“Just as I said, sweetheart,” Steve says as he walks over to you, “It took me a long time to figure it out, but I’m here to confess and maybe, get a chance of this to happen --  _ for us _ , if ya let me.” 

“And how--” you start, but Steve puts a finger to his lips and staring at them you find yourself losing your voice for a moment. 

“You got sit down and see for yourself,” he grins while pulling up the chair that Molly was just sitting on.   

You follow his instructions with your back to him, as you hear him rummaging through something before a  [ familiar song  ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4uTNVumfm84) starts playing. You let out a hearty laugh, knowing who probably gave him this idea, as you hear a nervous laugh coming from behind you. There is even more shuffling as you swear that you can hear Steve singing along with the band. The song slowly enters its first chorus, only for the chair spin as you look up to stare at the lightning and Steve’s soft and sincere smile. He is silently murmuring the words, as you let out a shaky laugh. He grabs your hand, as his blue eyes dazzle you with all the emotions flooding through them because you know by now that Steve always had a hard time expressing his feelings.  

He leans back and pulls out his hand in front of you, silently requesting that you dance with him -- to take this chance on him. You let out another shaky sigh, as you run a hand though your hair. His eyes are sincere and your heart beats faster than dancing an entire routine has ever made it felt -- that’s when you know.

“Show me your moves, Mr. Rogers,” you declare, grasping his hand as his smile widened to a megawatt grin. An arm snakes around your waist and even though you aren’t exactly dancing to the beat of the song anymore, all your attention is fully on him as you let Steve lead for once. 

“You’ve had an excellent dance teacher,” you can’t help but remark at your own handiwork with a laugh, remembering how bad he was when he first started back in August, and look how far he had come now. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud. 

“I know. Great gal, a real spitfire with the prettiest smile in all of New York,” he chuckles, as the song starts coming to an end, but the two of you are still moving as he dips you. 

“Sounds like you’re smitten,” you look up him, blue eyes full of adoration and something else, though you know for sure they didn’t shine like this when he talked about Sharon. It makes your heart skip a bit, as you eye his lips for a moment. 

“Completely,” he breathes out, a little grin on his face as he catches you staring, “And I would love to take her on a date tonight, if she’ll let me.” 

“Right now?” 

“Well, I’m sure she’s crazy not to say yes,” he smiles at you, as the both of you stop dancing just staring at each with hopeful eyes in the dance room as he grabs your cheek,“But, she’s a little stubborn like that.”

“Well, I’m sure you are too, Steve,” you say slightly miffed, but when he finally asks you on a proper date with your breathes mingling together, you can’t but say yes.  

Once you finally lock up and step foot outside, you are shocked to see a large bouquet of flowers  --all your favorites-- on top of his motorcycle basket with Steve handing them to you with a soft smile and a gentle peck on your cheek, and you know right then and there that you would be too stubborn to ever make the same mistake again -- to ever let this wonderful man go. 

And as you kiss at the end of the night, you’re pretty sure Steve (with a lovestruck smile and those sparkling blues) has the same thought too. 


End file.
